


Intrusive Thot

by patentpending



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, Flirting, Implied QPR intrulogical, M/M, Matchmaking, Rated R for Remus, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Remus Sanders, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 01:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20219725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patentpending/pseuds/patentpending
Summary: Remus decides to set up his brother and his best friend...  in his own, creative way.It'd be much easier if Roman would just admit there's nothing wrong with loving a dark side.





	Intrusive Thot

**Author's Note:**

> tws: canon-typical levels of Remus being Remus with:  
\- swearing  
\- innuendo  
\- animal organs  
\- characters trapped in a room
> 
> It's rated M for a reason, friendos

“You know,” Remus said, taking a thoughtful bite of deodorant. “You really need to get laid.”

“Oh, thank you so much for your insightful opinion.” Deceit didn’t even look up from where he was scribbling on a piece of yellowed parchment paper. He was using a quill, like the overdramatic gay he was. “I was just wondering when you were going to solve all my problems.”

“I'm serious, Dee,” Remus whined, draping himself across the top of their leader’s desk. “You're so tense I could rip out your spine and use it as a bowstring.”

He considered it for a moment. “Would you rather someone ripped out your spine or your small intestine? I'll leave it up to you.”

“Generous as your offer may be, I'll have to pass.” Deceit flicked his eyes up, put a hand on Remus’s forehead, and shoved him off.

With a shrill laugh, Remus fell. “Oh, don't you worry your pretty, snakey head. Your dear old Duke has got everything covered!”

“And I'd prefer to keep everything covered,” Deceit snarked. “Some tryst isn't going to magically solve all of my problems, Duke.”

“No I mean like” - Remus waved his hands - _ “emotionally _laid. With someone who's going to listen to you complain because neither of us want to do it. Right, Orange?”

The third side, sitting on the couch of the dark common room, hummed noncommittally and kept scrolling through his phone.

“‘Emotionally laid’?” Deceit echoed, arching an eyebrow. “Like a loving and supportive romantic relationship, perhaps?”

Remus gagged. “Don't be lewd.”

Deceit breathed out slowly, massaging his temples. _ “Such _ a good decision in my part to let you see the other sides. I'm a _ wonderful _decision maker.”

“I know!” Remus screeched happily, rolling around on the floor.

“You're going to crush your - and your deodorant is rubbed into the carpets.” Deceit let his head fall forward onto the desk with a thud. “Lovely. Wonderful.”

“I'll lick it up later,” Remus promised.

Deceit floundered for a moment before deciding his sanity was more important than addressing that particular statement.

“It's not just you, though,” Remus continued, seemingly content to recline on the vaguely-dirty carpet. 

Deceit's eye twitched.

“I mean, I was just telling my bro the same thing!” Remus fished out a chunk of deodorant and popped it in his mouth, heedless of the way Deceit's head snapped up, a little too quickly.

“He's always all in his head about ‘no, Remus, it has to be perfect’, and ‘I'm never good enough’, and ‘what the fuck no Remus we can't murder the other sides’.” He pulled a face. “I'd hate him so much if I didn't love him.”

“Why on earth would you assume I care?” Deceit drawled, his fingers tapping against the table. He shook his head and began scribbling on his paper again, shoulders tense.

Remus squinted at it and turned it into a detailed diagram of a whale’s reproductive system.

The other side reared back, sputtering, and Remus bowled over, clutching his sides as he cackled and toppled over the back of the couch.

“Why _ hello _ there, Orange,” he purred up at the side he landed on. “I'm sure we've both thought about this position before - and you're shoving me out of your lap, okay.”

“Thank you _ so much _ for destroying my last two days worth of work, Green,” Deceit hissed through clenched teeth. “I'm _ terribly _ grateful, really.”

“Welcome,” Remus muttered into the carpet his face was smashed into. “Orange, I'll have you know, I've thought about this position too.”

“Yellow, call me back when you've dealt with the problem child,” the third side said, then sunk out.

“You're very near and dear to my butthole!” Remus called after him.

Deceit huffed and sat back down, crumpling up the diagram and throwing it in the overflowing trash can. For a while, the two sides sat in silence, Deceit busily scribbling away and Remus trying to figure out where he could add more spikes to his morning star. 

“Who's it going to be then?” Deceit broke the silence, pointedly not looking at the Duke. He wasn't actually writing, the other side noted. Just tapping the pointed end against a paper with a few distracted lines. “If you're going to remedy your brother's issue. I suppose you have a… plan?”

He grimaced at the way Remus was picking his nose, then inspecting the harvest. “Or as close to one as you can get, I suppose.”

The Duke hid a smile. “Oh, you know, this and that, might get him and Patton to smash, put some cherry flavored-”

_ “Patton?!” _ Deceit interrupted, lip curling. “Seriously? _ Patton?” _

Remus flipped upside down and grinned at him. “I thought you didn't care.”

“I don't care,” Deceit hissed, standing up and stalking off. “Set Roman up with whoever you want,” he snapped over his shoulder.

Remus smiled. “I think I will.”

“Roman.” Remus waited a moment, but no response came. “Rooooomaaaannnn~”

Still, nothing. 

Remus propped his chin on the soft surface before him, considering for a moment. Then, he roared.

Roman shrieked and fell out of bed.

“Hiya, bro!” Remus grinned, wide and with far too many teeth.

Roman groaned and covered his face with his pillow. “How many times have I told you that you don't have to do this every time you enter the room?”

“How else would you be alerted of my magnificent presence?” The Duke chortled, bouncing up to sit on Roman's bed. 

Roman grimaced. “You're going to get trash on my covers.”

“Yup!” Remus agreed, rolling around in the newly-formed, rotting banana peels.

“I'm going to shave off your mustache while you sleep.”

“You and I both know it just grows back.” He twitched his mustache self-importantly. “And at least I _ can _ grow one.”

“But the temporary relief will be so sweet,” Roman's sighed, pointedly ignoring the side’s side-tangent. “Did you finish up the Joan jokes for the next skit?”

“It'd be much funnier if you stopped beeping them out,” Remus sighed, handing over the pages.

Roman skimmed them, chuckled. “We're going to have to cut” - he tapped a paragraph - “this, or else YouTube will ban us.”

“Fuck YouTube!” Remus proclaimed grandly. “No, really, fuck YouTube. Let's get a really big computer, put a hole in it, and-”

“Did you need something else?” Roman interrupted hastily, sliding the papers safely away.

“Nope!” Remus beamed, and didn't move.

Roman clicked his tongue. “So this just the _ Gran Hotel _ incident again?”

Remus pouted. “How was I supposed to know I'd get a little over excited by a telenovela?”

“You threw a brick through the television.”

_ “Alicia should have ended up with Julio and you know it!” _Remus snapped.

Roman arched an eyebrow, and Remus deflated, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. If Roman wondered where the eyeballs Remus put on his own head came from, he didn't ask.

“I need some advice,” Remus said.

“And you think I'd do anything for you ever because…?” Roman began tentatively picking up banana peels and throwing them on Remus’s side of their room.

The twins’ room was, quite literally, halved. A thick stage curtain hung from the star-speckled ceiling, open now, but drawn more often than not. Roman's side was a neat sort of chaos, all sticky notes plastered on postered walls and full notebooks in precarious stacks. Remus’s side was what would politely be referred to as messy and colloquially be called a flaming dumpster fire. Honestly, the banana peel just added to the ambiance.

“Come on, bro,” Remus wheeled, “you know you love me.”

“I barely tolerate you but continue.”

Remus pulled a face at him. “It's not for me, anyway. It's for Deceit.”

Roman went stock-still for a moment. “Oh. Is, uh…” He plucked at a stray thread in his duvet, not quite looking at his brother. “Is he alright?”

“Nope!” Remus chirped cheerfully. “He's wound so tight I could probably use him to set a watch.” He leered, shimmying his shoulders. “Then use that watch to power a mechanical dildo!”

Roman's brow creased. “He always seems fine when I see him.” He sighed softly. “Super fine.”

“Anyway,” Remus drawled, nudging him with his shoulder. “I've decided to set him up! If we get him laid, then he might not die of a heart attack. We won't get to snort his ashes, but I kinda like having him around.”

“Who's it going to be then?” Roman asked, a strange sort of edge to his voice. “You?”

“Ooh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Remus leered. “Our naked bodies, squirming and writhing against each other-”

“NOPE!” Roman yelped, clamping his hands over his ears. “Nope, nope, nopety nope. You’re my brother. Not thinking about it. We are _ not _ going down that rabbit hole.”

“I’m sure _ you’d _ prefer to go down a snake hole.” Remus winked. 

Roman's entire body froze for a moment before he exploded into motion, hands waving about frantically and feet swinging and head shaking. “Haha, Remus, Duke, my brother. You have some crazy ideas, huh? Dark creativity, amiright? Anyway, it's late and you need to go to bed to do some _ scheming _tomorrow, yeah?” He nodded emphatically at his own point. “And I gotta sleep so I can thwart you! An expert at thwarting, that's me. I can thwart with the best of them. They call me Thwarty McThwart Thwart. Is thwart a real word? Nothing sounds real if you say it enough. Thwart. Thwart. Thw-”

Remus shoved a banana peel into his mouth.

“I know you're asexual, and I respect that,” he said as Roman shrieked and desperately tried to wipe the taste from his mouth, “but, bro, come on. You emotionally want that juicy snake booty.”

Roman paused chugging a water bottle to raise an eyebrow. “You mean a romantic relationshi-”

Remus shoved another banana peel into his mouth. “Why are all of you so vile?!” He cried, flopping backwards into the filthy bed. “‘Romantic relationships’, _ ick!” _ He shuddered. “Just fantasize about taking two d’s at once like the rest of us.”

_ “Why does the taste linger?!” _Roman demanded, on his third bottle of pineapple juice.

“Who wants ‘romance’?” Remus bemoaned, throwing a hand across his forehead, “it's gross. I'm allergic.”

“You're aromantic, not allergic.” Roman rolled his eyes, draining his last bottle.

“Then explain this weird rash on my stomach,” Remus said, pulling up his shirt.

“That's probably because you sleep in a garbage heap.” Roman grimaced.

“Ehhhh.” Remus squinted his eyes, tilted his head in a manner that dangerously suggested he was thinking. “Nah, that doesn't make sense. Besides, you're changing the subject.”

“There is no subject,” Roman bit out, shoulders tense. “Neither of us would be interested in that.”

“But you could be!” Remus insisted, grinning. “Insert your emotional di-”

“Finish that sentence and I insert my non-emotional fist into your non-emotional face.”

“Come on!” Remus cajoled. “Make like Adam and Steve and get” - he wriggled his hips - “it” - he started thrusting - “on.”

He summoned a kazoo and started in on the worst rendition of Careless Whisper anyone had ever heard.

Roman closed his eyes and slowly breathed out. “I never needed to see that in my entire life.” He cracked open an eye. “Also, it was Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”

Remus gasped. “You homophobic little bitch.”

“Remus!” Roman snapped. “Just shut up! It doesn't matter how I feel about Deceit, because he doesn't like me. And even if he did, there's just too much in the way. He's a dark side.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You're the one who made that title up. It doesn't mean anything.”

“Yes, it does!” Roman insisted. “You're not supposed to love a dark side. They're the bad guys!”

Remus was quiet for a long moment. “Then so am I.”

Roman's face twitched; swallowing hard, he worked his jaw and looked away. “I know.”

“I see.” Remus slid off the bed and stalked to his side of the room, drawing the curtain behind him.

Roman didn't call after him.

Deceit _ wasn't _ sulking.

He was a man of elegance, of grace and poise. He was the leader of the dark sides and a criminal mastermind. He didn't _ sulk. _

He was… brooding.

Much more refined.

He stalked down the hallway of the subconscious, cape flaring behind him and fists swinging at his side. _ “Patton,” _ he muttered to himself, voice dripping with venom. “Why _ Patton? _ Ugh, the _ sunshine _ in that relationship alone…”

Roman deserved someone more than Patton. Someone who would always listen to him. Someone who never dismissed his ideas and encouraged him to follow his dreams. Someone who let him take what he wanted out of life, instead of sacrificing himself for others.

He didn’t deserve naiveté or insipid smiles or grating, nymphish laughter.

“Stupid, childish imbicle,” he muttered to himself.

“DID SOMEBODY SAY REMUS?!”

Jumping, Deceit barely managed to dodge a flying tackle from Remus. The green side huffed, face-down in the carpet. He glared up balefully.

“I was just trying to give my bestest friend in the whole wide world a hug,” he muttered petulantly.

“However delightful the bruises from your hugs may be,” Deceit drawled, tugging his outfit back into place. “I’m afraid I must pass.”

“Well fine!” Remus shrieked, grating. “How is my best friend in the entire world? Certainly hope your scales aren’t going to shed and reveal your bare, bloody skull!”

Deceit only managed to stop himself from touching his scales with skill of practice.

“Why do you keep calling me your best friend?” He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

Loling over onto his back, Remus grinned. “You are my best friend though.”

“That’s besides the point.” Deceit put a foot on the middle of his chest. “Spill.”

“Step on me, daddy,” Remus moaned, and Deceit lurched back, scowling. Remus pouted. “Well, you’re just no fun.”

He jumped to his feet and sighed, sidling away. “Guess you don’t want to hang out with me and Roman then.”

Deceit’s hand closed around The Duke’s arm. Facing away, Remus allowed himself the smallest, smugest smile. By the time Deceit whirled him around, it was replaced by an impatient, annoyed glower.

Deceit stared at him for a long moment, mouth slightly open, mind running through all the things he wanted to say but never would. “Since when does Roman hang out with you?” He settled on.

“We’re brothers!” Remus waved a hand dismissively. “Who else is he going to hang out with, Betrayal McPurple or the walking superiority complex?” His grin turned conspiratorial. “Mr. Fluffy Dad isn’t on the table because we’re still planning on how to bend him _ over _ the table.”

Deceit’s fangs pulsed in his mouth, and he felt the overwhelming urge to hiss, but he pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “I doubt I’d be much help there.”

“Oh, sure you would be!” Remus waggled his eyebrows. “You just lack imagination!”

“If you start a song, I will disembowel you.”

“Kinky,” Remus leered, but the music cut out, so Deceit counted it as a win. “So, are you coming” - he wiggled his eyebrows - “or not?”

Deceit shot him flat look then relented, sighing. “I _ won’t _ be joining you, yes.”

With a cheer, Remus grabbed his hands, pulling him down into the imagination.

The thick, lush green trees of the forest around Roman’s castle gave away to thorny underbrush and craggy rocks jutting like accusing fingers into the sky as the two dark sides ventured further into the Duke’s domain. After a brief interlude for Deceit and a snake he found along the way to flick their tongues out at each other, the two spotted a speck of red and white among the grays and greens.

Deceit stumbled. Roman looked different. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, a golden circlet holding it in place. Knee-high boots hugged his calves. His long sleeves were pushed up to reveal the flexing muscles of his forearms as he swung a shining sword in a set of drills. He wasn’t facing them, so Deceit drank the sight of him in, perhaps a little too eagerly.

Remus noticed him staring and grinned. “He gets a little more princely in here.” He wiggled his shoulders, leering. “Wouldn’t it be fun to mess up that perfect little prince?”

“Remus?” Roman called, turning. “That you?”

Deceit, slightly flushed, slinked backwards, out of sight.

“I got your note.” Roman flapped a piece of paper reading _ ‘meet me in my half of the imagination to make it up to me, jerk.’ _ at the other side. “What do you want, Dukey?”

“An adventure!” Remus exclaimed, sing-song. “The three of us are going to have the best time.”

Roman groaned. “Rem, the last time we went on an ‘adventure’, I found mergriffin scales in my - wait.” The prince narrowed his eyes._ “Three _ of us?”

“You didn’t even notice me,” Deceit drawled, slinking out of the shadows Remus could’ve sworn hadn’t been there a moment ago. “How flattering.”

Remus bit down a grin. Deceit had decided to dress up for the occasion too.

His cape lengthened, brushing the rocky ground beneath them, and his black shirt grew yellow laces, revealing the hollow of his neck, speckled with scales. He looked every bit the wicked, charming knight to Roman's dashing prince.

Roman swallowed hard, and Remus could _ see _ the awful pick-up line forming on the edge of his tongue. _ ‘I must've been struck blind by your beauty, not to acknowledge such a vision,’ _or something equally soppy and disgusting. Instead, Roman shook himself and flashed a cautious smile Deceit's way.

“Probably just because you were lurking in the shadows,” he quipped. “Tell me, did you merely adopt the darkness, or were you born in it, molded by it?”

Deceit's eyes sparkled. “Referencing Christopher E. Nolan’s best-known epistemological work? Roman, you're too good to me.”

Roman tensed, shoulders hunching. “Well, I wouldn't say that,” he babbled. “It's not like I go out of my way to flatter a dark side-”

Remus decided to throw his brother a rescue line.

“You know, Deceit,” he trilled. “You could trip, and that cape would get caught on the rocks, and you would hang yourself!” Remus bounced on his toes, giggling. “I bet your feet would kick all over the place!”

Well, Remus’s version of a rescue line, at least.

Gathering his cape into his arms, Deceit grimaced. “Thank you _ so much _for that visual, Duke.”

“You're welcome!” Remus cheered, bounding forward. “Come on, whale penises, we've got adventuring to do!”

“Whale penises?” Deceit muttered, nose scrunching.

Roman sighed, and it almost sounded dangerously fond. “He's calling us dorks.”

“Lovely.”

With a commiserating smile, the two set off down the rocky trail after Remus. He had stopped before the mouth of a cave, about the size of a door frame, with an actual wooden door somehow suspended within the rock.

“Is this it?” Roman asked, peering cautiously inside.

Remus giggled. “Go in and see for yourself.”

Roman wavered, but after Remus wiggled his mustache at the note in Roman's hand, the Prince relented, filing in. Deceit slithered in behind him.

They didn’t even have time to take in the cave’s decor before Remus slammed the door shut and locked it behind them.

“Remus?” Roman turned around, eyes widening as he saw the locked door.

“REMUS?!” He shouted, pounding on it.

Deceit hissed. “I know where you keep your deodorant stache, Green.”

There was, perhaps, a slight waver, but the Duke held firm.

“Enjoy~” Remus called, sing-song, uncovering the peephole into the room he had made. Hey, if they were going to get down to the juicy stuff, he wanted to know about it first.

The room was quite lovely, in Remus's opinion - all adorned in brilliant reds, shining whites, and with a bouquet of fresh flowers in the middle of a candlelit table.

Roman audibly gulped, shrinking back. “I think Remus is going to use us as a cult sacrifice.”

Okay, so the red was a half-finished paint job that may or may not look like blood, the white was a few stacks of his favorite bones, and the table was a stone slab with ominous candles flickering at the edges that seemed suspiciously like an alter.

At least the flowers were nice.

Deceit swallowed hard, pulling on determination like a cape. “Green, what's this all about?”

Remus huffed, tapping his foot. They weren't getting it. What wasn't there to get? He had set up a nice place for them to have a dinner date. There was even lavender flavored deodorant; the type Roman used!

He brightened, snapping his fingers. Mood music! A little song to make things better always worked.

Roman shrieked and clutched Deceit's arm as a horrid wailing permitted the air.

“Alright, Duke,” Deceit snarled, stepping in front of Roman. “Get us the hell out of here before I’m forced to do something about it.” His fangs lengthened as he barred them, hissing.

Roman looked at Deceit, hovering protectively before him, and his face shifted, lips parting and eyebrows drawing together. He looked like someone had swept the rug out from under him then caught him in their arms. He swallowed hard, shook his head, and stepped forward, to Deceit’s side.

“I doubt you and my sword want to get reacquainted, brother.” He put a hand on the hilt. “So I’d suggest you do what Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Lied says.”

Deceit barely suppressed a snort of laughter, and Roman looked sideways at him, a smile flirting with the corners of his lips.

He had a dimple in the middle of his left cheek. It wasn't quite visible yet, just the shallowest indentation, but Deceit had seen it before, had stopped and stared at the small divot that only appeared when Roman was grinning, unabashed and gleeful.

“You’re playing a Dangerous Game, referencing musicals I love,” Deceit drawled.

The smile blossomed, Roman’s eyes shining and face glowing so brightly, Remus had to look away for a second.

“Romance,” he muttered, disgusted. “Ugh.”

“Well,” Roman sighed, trying and failing to play it coy, “Now There Is No Choice but to keep referencing them.”

Deceit smirked. “Delightful as it would be to do this all day…” He inclined his head towards the door.

Roman flushed, ducking his head. “Right.” He twirled his wrist, pulling his sword out of the air. Rolling his shoulders, he flashed the other side a cocky grin. “Watch and be amazed, Salazar S-lie-therin.”

With a whoop, he threw himself forward, striking hard at the center of the oaken door. It cracked down the middle, revealing a sheepish Remus.

“Whoops,” he said, then twitched his mustache, and the crack melted away.

“I’m amazed,” Deceit deadpanned.

Roman flushed and didn’t turn around, banging on the door.

“Let us out, you monstrous fiend! You most vile visage that ever offended eye!”

“We have the same face, dumbass!” Remus shouted back.

“I’m much better looking.” Roman sniffed. 

“We’re twins.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Besides” - his voice dropped conspiratorially - “you’ve got something more important to pay attention to. Wink.”

“You wouldn’t have to say wink if you just let me out, and I could see the wink,” Roman hedged.

“Oh, Roman! There’s a seashell out here!” There was an obstinate thumping of boots. “I’m listening to the ocean! Uh-huh… uh-huh… the ocean says you’re a little bitch.”

Roman sputtered, and Remus cackled, calling out a ‘byeeeeeeee.’

“I’m going to kill him,” Roman groaned, thumping his head against the door.

“You’ll have to stand in line.”

Roman turned around to see Deceit, coiled up on the ground, seemingly resigned.

“What are you doing?”

“He’ll get bored and let us go eventually,” the snake sighed. “We just have to wait him out.”

On the other side of the wall, Remus muffled his giggle and wiggled. He was more patient than they thought.

Roman grumbled but dropped down to the floor. There were perhaps three feet between them, but neither quite had the courage to close the gap.

“Do you know what this is all about?” Deceit asked, idly tossing a rock back and forth between his hands.

Roman's hand tightened into a fist for a split second before he forced it to relax. “I'm just as in the dark as you are, Lyin’ king,” he mourned, letting us head fall back against the wall.

Deceit's forked tongue flicked out, tasting something off in the air. Roman held his gaze unflinchingly.

They were both, technically, in the dark of Remus's misbegotten romance room. Roman hadn't lied. He just hadn't told the truth.

“You know, I always liked watching you act.” Deceit closed his eyes and leaned back, all long limbs and coiled tension.

Roman started, a twinge hitting the middle of his chest. “What?”

“All those performances you put on for the other sides” - Deceit waved a hand airily - “I was there too.”

“Oh,” Roman said, quietly, knitting his hands together in his lap. “I… I didn't know. I never saw you.”

“I'm sure the others would be absolutely _ delighted _ to see me there.” A small, bitter smile quirked the side of Deceit's mouth. “‘Oh, why come on in, Mr. Scooby Doo Villain! Gosh golly, sure is swell to see you’.”

“Point made.” Roman huffed out a laugh. “Still, it’s, uh…” He cleared his throat, suddenly and pointedly not looking at the other side. “It’s nice. To know that you came.” He swallowed hard, hands flexing and unflexing. “I’m glad you did.”

Deceit shrugged, over-casual. “Just something to do. It’s nice to take a break from bossing around the other ‘dark sides’.” A wry smile lifted his lips. “I don’t suppose you could’ve consulted us before formulating that name?”

Roman almost smiled. “No way, False-ettos. There's got to be a villain in every story, after all.”

“Oh, is that what I am?” Deceit purred. “The villain? The snake here to tempt you?”

The scales at the hollow of his throat glimmered in the low light. There was a dip, just there, that looked like it would be the perfect place to put Roman’s thumb. Roman’s hand twitched, imagining the warmth of the other side’s chest, the catch of his scales against Roman’s skin.

“More like _ hiss _ me off.” Roman moved his hand under his thigh, pinning it down.

Deceit laughed.

Roman pretended to be able to handle it.

“I guess it’s not your fault though.” Roman shrugged. “I mean, you didn’t _ choose _ to be a dark side.”

The joviality slithered off of Deceit’s face, leaving something guarded behind. “What’sss that sssupposed to mean?”

“Oh, well, you know, I mean-” Roman, taken aback, flailed before shrugging and looking away from the other side. “Nobody _ wants _ to be the bad guy.”

Deceit ran a forked tongue along the top row of his teeth. “I happen to like being myself.”

Roman frowned. “You wouldn't want to be one of the light sides? One of the good guys?”

“Why would I?”

“Because we're the _ good guys!” _ Roman gestured, halfway between impatient and bewildered. “We look out for him, you know?”

“Oh, because you _ always _ know what’s best for Thomas,” Deceit snapped.

“Yeah, we do!” Roman fired back. “He doesn't like lying, last time I checked.”

“He's so stupid,” Remus groaned, smacking his head against the wall repeatedly. “How can he be so smart _ and _ so stupid?”

Deceit flinched, just the slightest bit, but it was enough to make Roman backtrack.

“Wait, shoot, I'm sorry, I didn't-”

“I know he doesn't,” Deceit murmured, bunching and smoothing the edge of his cloak, over and over again. “But he doesn't have to like me.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Roman started, helplessly, but Deceit cut him off.

“He doesn't like me, but he _ needs _ me.” There was a brittle edge to the snake's voice, strong but almost ready to shatter. “If it were up to you and… and Patton, he'd go broke giving to charity and break his bones diving off a waterfall to find mermen.”

“That was one time!” Roman protested, and a smile flickered at the corner of Deceit's mouth.

“Yes, and I _ adored _ coming up with something so he didn't have to explain he cut up his arm because he thought he saw a hot fish.”

“I know what I saw,” Roman grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you. And especially on the other two.” Deceit shrugged, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. “Someone has to look after his darker instincts.”

“I guess you’re right,” Roman said, softly.

They sat in silence for a moment longer before Roman blinked, a small frown tugging at his cheeks. “Does it ever get… lonely?” Deceit blinked at him, and he rushed to clarify. “Being in charge like that, I mean. I don’t really know the others, but I don’t imagine my brother is the best of company,” he chuckled softly.

Remus reared back from the peephole. He swallowed hard before breathing in. 

Holding. Breathing out.

A small, miserable lump gathered at the bottom of his throat. 

Turning on his heel, he stalked away from the cave and into the murky gray of his mindscape. With a snap of his fingers, the door unlocked itself. They’d figure it out eventually.

He didn’t think he really wanted to hear the rest of this conversation.

“He's more fun than you'd think,” Deceit admitted, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

Roman thought of dumb knock-knock jokes yelled across their room at three am, of bickering over what video game route to play, of a sword leaving against his shield and a sparring opponent who knew his next move before he did.

Something that tasted suspiciously like guilt welled up on his throat, but he just shoved it down. Shrugged silently.

“Speaking of,” Deceit hissed eventually, when it was apparent Roman couldn't respond, “what'd you do to tick off his royal _ hell _ness?”

Roman huffed, crossing his arms. “And why, exactly, do you assume I did anything to make the Duke mad?”

“Oh, you're so right,” Deceit drawled. “Locking us up in a cave together must be a reward for good behavior.”

Even if he didn't know it, he was almost telling the truth.

“He's under the impression I have a crush on you,” Roman didn't say. “Which is ridiculous, because you're a dark side. Albeit a suave, charming, attractive dark side who's exactly my type.”

“We cohabitate,” he said instead. “Trust me, Jack Scale-ington, there's no end of ways I could've done it.”

Deceit hummed noncommittally, flicking out his forked tongue.

“I need to get out of here,” Roman continued, not willing to wait and see if Deceit caught onto his half-lie. “Remus is doing who knows what, and I'm not around to thwart him.”

Deceit's mismatched, unblinking eyes shone in the flickering candlelight. His yellow one almost looked like spun gold, from a fairytale Roman half remembered.

“Well, come on then, Mr. Creativity.” Deceit stood, brushing himself off, and offered a hand to Roman. “We can’t keep you from your extremely vital thwarting, now can we?”

Roman laughed, placing his hand in Deceit’s with only the slightest moment of hesitation. “It’d surely be a disaster if we did, Mr. Deception.”

Deceit pulled a face. “‘Deception’,” he muttered. “What am I, from the fourteenth century?”

“Well, if you want to get with the times” - Roman impulsively snatched the other side’s hat - “you might want to lose the archaic accessories.”

“Says the man with a sword and scabbard.”

Deceit scowled, gloved hands batting at his hat hair, but Roman just laughed. With a boldness he hadn't known he possessed, he reached out and smoothed those dark curls into place.

“Maybe I should just keep this,” he teased, twirling the bowler hat on his finger. “I think natural’s a good look on you.”

“Well, that's not fair, now is it?” Deceit crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow. “I don't have a counterattack. Everything's a good look on you.”

He smirked. “Especially that blush.”

“Ngh,” Roman said, eloquently.

“Right then,” Deceit breezed past him, casually lifting his hat off of Roman's finger.

Roman broke out of his stupor and turned just in time to see Deceit at the door.

“Open sesame,” Deceit drawled, experimentally twisting the door knob.

It moved.

Deceit blinked at it. Turned it again.

“It’s not locked.”

“WHAT?!” Roman was instantly next to the other side.

Sure enough, the door swung open without resistance. They emerged into the gray light of Remus’s mindscape.

“Well, shoot.” Roman puffed his cheeks, breathing out. “I guess we wasted all that time for nothing.”

He could feel Deceit’s gaze on him before he looked up to meet it. Oddly intent, shining with something he didn’t know if he wanted to name.

Roman averted his eyes. Somehow, everything felt bigger, more consequential out here than in the tiny, private cave.

“Not nothing,” Deceit said, softly. He made an aborted gesture, as if to touch Roman, but stopped.

Roman swallowed hard, tugging at a tassel on his jacket. “What else could it be?”

Thy were balancing on the edge of a cliff, billowing blackness twisting and ebbing over the side. Roman could feel himself wobbling, almost ready to fall.

Deceit flashed an enigmatic smile. “Well, I guess that’s up to you.”

When Roman parted his lips to speak, nothing came out. He was on solid land, but at what cost?

Deceit took one step forward, then another, until he was right before Roman. He lifted the Prince’s chin so he had no choice but to look into those mismatched eyes.

“Thisss wassss fun,” he hissed, rolling his S’s until the sound tripped up and down Roman’s spine. He smirked. “We should do it again sometime.”

He sunk out, and Roman was left in his brother’s imagination, with only the flush on his cheeks, the weakness in his knees, and the heartbeat roaring in his ears for company.

Remus was lonely most of the time.

This may not be an immediate conclusion to jump to, since he inserted himself into conversations, thoughts, and, on the rare occasion, showers unwanted, but the thing was, he _ knew _ he was an unwanted addition. The others made that very clear.

Granted, the ‘dark sides’ - as his brother was so fond of calling them - tolerated him more, thus garnering his undying loyalty, but it was rare that anyone ever sought out his company.

So it was with no small amount of joy that Remus heard his brother slam open the door to their room, yank back the curtain, and shout his name.

“Roman!” He responded cheerfully. He sat up in his beanbag chair - stuff with real, cooked beans - and wiggled, kicking his feet. “How’d your date go? You’re welcome by the way.”

He had sulked about his brother’s slight for a dozen minutes or so before deciding brothers be like that sometimes and returning to their room to continue programming the most violent, jump-scare filled game in history.

Roman was clenching and unclenching his fists, breathing heavily; his face was flushed.

Remus beamed at him. “Hey, do you think it's scarier if the chainsaw lady has crab legs or-”

“I am angry,” Roman said, carefully stilted, “at you.”

Remus’s mouth dropped open. A tarantula crawled out. 

“ME?!” His hands flew to his chest. His laptop careened off of his legs. “What did_ I _do?”

“Locked me in a cave with Deceit, for one!” Roman cried before backtracking. “Hold up, date?”

“I told you the two of you need to get together,” Remus clucked. “Not my fault if you fail to ride to the challenge.”

Roman squinted. “Isn't it ‘rise to’-” He cut himself off as his brother made an obscene gesture. “Never mind.”

Remus giggled.

“Look, just…” Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Remus held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“We were never in boy scouts.”

“Oh.” Remus dropped his index and ring finger. “Fuckers honor!”

Roman dragged a hand down his face and retreated to his side of the room, muttering to himself: “there’s a possibility we’re not related, there’s a possibility we’re not related, there’s a-”

Remus tuned him out, summoning a notepad and chewing on the end of his pencil. Carefully, he crossed out _ lock them in a room together. _ Roman said he couldn’t do _ that _ again, but Remus had plenty more up his sleeve.

In the end, Remus went with the method little brothers have been using since the dawn of time: annoyance.

He beamed as Roman drew back the shower curtain. “Date Deceit.”

“REMUS, I’M NAKED.”

“We took baths together when we were little; this- WAIT, ARE YOU USING MY SHAMPOO?!”

“REMUS, GET OUT.”

Remus slammed the door. “You better not use my razor!”

“Well, I don’t feel like getting rabies!”

He crawled out from under Roman’s bed in the middle of the night. “Marry Deceit.”

“I’m going to marry your face to my fist,” Roman muttered and promptly began snoring.

He threw paperballs at Roman as they tried to work on a new short.

_ Emotionally screw Deceit, _ one read.

_ Sit on Deceit’s lap, _ the next instructed.

_ Date Deceit, _ most said.

Roman snapped his fingers, and they all burst into flame.

Remus even hacked Roman’s electronic keyboard so every time he tried to play something, Remus’s voice sang out “metaphorically fuck the snake man~.”

Yet, despite all this, Roman bore the slings without much reaction, just suppressing a snort or flashing a grimace at his brother.

It was going to take something more.

A few days later, Roman threw out the ‘note from Deceit’ that looked suspiciously like his brother’s handwriting, and went to work on the newest script with Logan. He had been jittery the past few days and it showed; he was missing easy mistakes and coming up with half-baked jokes more cringy than funny.

“Alright,” Logan said, eventually, pushing back from the desk and leveling Roman with a flat glare. “What in the name of Newton is going on?”

“Ugh, fine.” Roman rolled his eyes. “If you _ really _ don’t like the superhero motif, we can change it to-”

“No, not your inane enhanced specimen metaphor,” Logan snipped. “I’m referring to your higher level of vapidity than usual.”

“I’ve just got some stuff going on,” Roman deflected, crossing his arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Falsehood,” Logan countered. “If your… personal issues affect Thomas’s work, then they are very much my concern. I can help, if need be.” 

“Aww,” Roman cooed, “you do care, Jane Austre.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Logan sniffed then flipped through his vocab cards. “Now, ‘spill the tea, sis’.” He looked up. “Was that correct?”

Roman cringed. “Technically.”

He sat back and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So, a while back, Remus crawled out from under my bed in the middle of the night…”

“Well,” Logan said after the entire story had been relayed, leaning back and adjusting his glasses. “I certainly comprehend your lack of attention as of late.”

“I know!” Roman threw a hand over his face. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, no, your brother is showing an interest in your life and emotional health.” Logan arched an eyebrow. “How tragic.”

Roman groaned. “This feels like you're trying to mock me, not help me.”

“I'm multitasking,” Logan assured him.

“It’s just…” Roman waved a hand. “He’s a _ dark _ side.”

“Yes.” Logan nodded.

Roman waited.

Logan waited.

This continued for an uncomfortably long period of time.

“I’m sorry, is this somehow a surprise to you?” Logan frowned. “Not counting Virgil, there are three dark sides: your brother, your paramour, and t-”

“I know who the dark sides are, Hugh Jackman!” Roman threw up his hands; Logan barely ducked in time to save his glasses. “It’s this… fraternization that’s the problem.”

“Oh!” Logan said, still bent halfway backwards, smiling. “You’ve been studying your vocab cards too.”

“Yeah, thanks for the new set,” Roman said, absently. “But you see my problem here, right?”

“Quite candidly, no.” Logan pulled himself up, adjusting his tie. “All sides serve some measure of importance to Thomas. There’s no reason to discard amorous intentions towards one simply because of an ultimately meaningless distinction.”

Roman’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?” He demanded. “‘Meaningless’ - they freak Thomas out! You saw how he reacted to the Duke!”

“We established that was simply an understandable overreaction on Patton and Virgil’s behalf,” Logan chided gently. “Besides, Virgil did the same thing previously. He and I are more neutral parties than light sides, as you would call us. We are not purely ‘good’ forces; logic and anxiety simply are.”

“Yeah, well, I mean, sure, but,” Roman stammered, trying to collect his thoughts. “They’re the bad guys!” He hesitated, looking up at his friend. “Aren’t they?”

“Roman,” Logan said, gingerly. “Have you considered that there may be a deeper reason behind your aversion to confessing your” - he cringed - _ “feelings _ towards Deceit?”

Roman shook his head emphatically. “Okay, Picani, slow your role. We aren’t filming Cartoon Therapy here.”

Logan sighed. “Just think about it, alright? Additionally, regardless of any outcomes…” Logan awkwardly patted his shoulder. “I shall not think any different of you.”

And, despite everything, Roman smiled.

Deceit couldn’t focus.

His favorite books, scheming, mitigating Remus’s disasters - nothing could hold his attention for more than a few minutes. He lost interest halfway though, mind drawn to the gnawing in his chest and leaving pages unturned, plots unfulfilled, and ten-foot ants unbanished.

He paced the dark mindscape restlessly, trying to force out the jittering of his hands, but nothing helped. He couldn’t stop thinking about Roman.

Sure, he’d always had a bit of an… interest in the other side. How could he not? As Thomas’s self-preservation, he had an intrinsic need to protect Thomas’s ego, to push him to pursue his dreams, to get him everything he wanted.

To take care of Roman.

Deceit was all about treachery. If he had to lie a few times to ensure his own interests were secure, well, he wasn’t about to lose any sleep over it.

This was a _ devious, evil _ scheme, sure to ensure his dominion over the mindscape was complete.

He tapped his quill against the paper before him, scowling. It couldn't be too obvious, just enough that Roman would be hesitant to let himself fall into Patton's arms.

Not that he _ cared _ if Roman and Patton got together. It’d just be harder to manipulate Roman if he was constantly being badgered by the literal embodiment of goodness and morality. This was just a part of Deceit’s evil schemes.

And if his notebook on this particular evil scheme consisted of a lot of doodling Roman’s name and not much else, that was no one’s business but his.

_ My dearest, Roman, _ he started. A Hamilton reference would butter him up.

_ You’ve got a dimple in your left cheek, did you know that? It’s shallow, hardly obvious, but i can see it when you smile. I doubt anyone else has noticed, but every time you smile, I can’t help but stare. _

No, that was ridiculous. Also, a little stalker-y.

_ To my prince, _ he tried. _ In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. _

Well, his whole thing was repression so. Maybe not.

He tried again. _ Dear Roman… _

And again. _ Sweet Roman… _

And again. _ I know there’s so much holding us back, but this… this thing, this possibility between us… _

And again. _ You’re so much more clever than you give yourself credit for. _

And again. _ You have no idea how long it took me to come up with that ‘one angry man’ joke. _

He ripped up page after page, despondent. Roman could never see any of this. Deceit was many things, but he was never this honest.

He sat there, surrounded by his crumpled-up thoughts, and fought down tears of frustration. It wasn’t good enough. Nothing was good enough.

He couldn’t just come out and say what he wanted to. Couldn’t just write down _ ‘hey, Roman, please don’t date Patton! I know he’s good and kind and beautiful and everything I’m not, but I’m selfish and I don’t think I could bear to see you with him. I know he’s perfect for you, but I… I-’ _

“I love you,” Deceit said, softly. “Damn it, Roman. Why’d you have to make me love you?”

Deceit wadded up the last paper and threw it in the trash.

He was self-preservation. He looked out for himself. And he knew that confessing to Roman was the quickest way to get himself hurt.

Deceit fell asleep halfway through another love letter he’d never send, head drooping onto the desk and hat slumping down to cover his eyes.

It wasn’t long after that a certain green side slunk into the dark common room, tongue flickering lewdly around a phallic lollipop. Before he could screech at the other side and wake him, a snippet of writing caught his eye.

_ So much of what I do is for you, to protect you… _

Remus smirked, skimming one of the letters. “Looks like I’m not the only green-eyed monster around here.”

A sleepy murmur came from Deceit, whose tongue flickered out in his slumber, scenting the air. Remus smoothed out the letter as best as he could, placing it back on the desk. “It’ll work out, Dee,” he assured the other side. “I promise.”

Remus tucked his cape around him like a blanket before returning with a warm bowl of water. He dipped Deceit’s hand in; for science, obviously.

The nerd was rubbing off on him in more ways than one.

Things finally crashed over when Remus scrawled ** _date Deceit_ ** onto Roman’s painted ceiling in glow-in-the-dark paint. As soon as Roman blinked awake, the message beamed down at him.

“Remus,” Roman declared, drawing back their curtain. “I need to talk to - are you licking a picture of Logan?”

Remus sighed, pouting at the glossy candid. “It doesn't taste the same.”

“I mean… yeah.” Roman blinked. “It's paper and ink, not actual Logan.”

“So what you're saying is that I need to steal his skin.”

“_ Please _ do not.” Roman forcibly pulled himself away from that conversation and refocused. “Look, this whole situation has gotten out of hand. I don’t know what you want, but I’ll do whatever. I will make a whole volcano for you to swim in, I’ll switch sides of our room, heck, I’ll even let you take my place in a video. Just leave me alone, okay?”

“Then throw a party!” Remus cheered.

“Oh heck no,” Roman said immediately.

“What?” Remus whined, draping himself over the top of his bed. “Why? Is this about the last ball you had?” He paused and giggled to himself. “Ball.”

“No, it's not about you _ murdering _ a particularly charming knight at my last ba- _ gala.” _

“I didn't kill him!” Remus protested, sitting up. “He died of natural causes.”

Roman stared at his brother for a long moment. “You pushed him off of the roof.”

Remus shrugged. “Gravity is natural.”

Roman groaned, flopping face-forwawrd onto his brother’s bed. “I give up. I surrender. I renounce my tenuous grasp on sanity.” He lifted his head, peering at Remus hopefully. “Are you sure we're related?”

“Yuppie!” Remus chirped. “But if this isn't about me shoving suspiciously tall, charming, and scaled knights off of the roof and onto a pit of spikes, what is it about?”

“Spikes?!” Roman sat up, alarmed, but just as quickly deflated. “Actually, scratch that. I don't want to know.” He sighed. “Look, I don’t like Deceit like that, and he certainly doesn’t like me back. I’m asking you this as your brother. Please, please just… leave it alone.”

Remus looked at him, something serious in his green eyes. “You think you have everyone fooled, don’t you?”

Roman reeled back. “What?”

“You can’t trick me, brother. I’ve known you for too long. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to deny it, but I know that you care about him just as much as he cares about you.” Remus narrowed his eyes. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Remus, for the last time, stop it!” Roman snarled. “I can’t! He’s a dark side!”

“Why?” Remus stood, hands on hips. “Why are you so _ insistent _on dividing us into dark and light sides? You know it isn't real!”

“Because of you!” Roman snapped.

Remus blinked. “What?”

“It’s _ all _ because of you!” Roman gestured wildly. “You’re my brother, but you're the bad guy! You hurt Thomas! And I'm not _ supposed _ to love you, but I do.”

Remus reeled back, as if he'd been struck. “You… love me?”

Roman huffed out a laugh, running jittery hands through his mussed hair. “You drive me insane, and you're disgusting, and you insult me and you hurt me, and you know me better than anyone else. You've stuck with me like an annoying parasite since the beginning. You're the only person who I can tell anything to. You're smart as hell, even if you don't like to show it.” 

Roman stood, jabbed a finger into Remus’s chest. “You're the one constant in my life. Even if everything else burned to the ground, I know you'd still be there for me. Even when I doubt myself and feel like I can never create something worthy again, you say something so dumb that I can't help but fix it, and then I'm off again, and it's amazing, and I _ know _ that you're the one who started it, but you always let me take full credit.

“And I don't want it!” Roman threw his hands up. “I don't want to know what it's like to binge telenovelas with you until three in the morning. I don't want to know what it's like to have the ultimate confidant. I don't want to know what it's like to have a sparring partner who can put up a fight-”

“-way more than just a fight,” Remus muttered, cracking a small grin. “I knock you on your ass half the time, Ro.”

Roman shot him a withering glare. “A quarter. _ Maybe. _ I'm being generous.”

“Did your generosity consider how me and my morningstar knocked you out for a whole forty-four minutes, Icky-bod Crane?”

Roman snorted, a smile floating up, before he shoved it back down. “This is what I'm talking about!” He rallied. “I don't want to love you, but I do!”

Sinking to the ground, he put his head in his hands. Hesitantly, Remus settled down beside him.

“You mean so much to me,” Roman said, softly. “You… you're…” Roman's voice cracked, wavered. “You're my _ brother.” _

Roman was particularly correct about one thing in particular: Remus did know him better than anyone else. So Remus knew just when his brother needed a hug.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Roman, letting him sob into his shoulder.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured. “Bro, it's okay. You know it's okay.”

Roman just shook his head. “No,” he mumbled, voice thick. “It isn't.”

“It is,” Remus insisted. “Look, I can't change who I am or what I do anymore than Logan can stop being a repressed nerd with a bondage kink-”

“What?”

“-not important. The point is that” - Remus sighed - “even if I am a ‘dark side’, there's no reason we can't act like brothers. There's no reason we can't love each other.”

He leaned back and squeezed Roman's shoulders. “You know this means there's no reason you can't love him, either.”

“I do,” Roman said, softly, as if he were afraid. “Rem, I really do love him.”

“Well, if that's settled” - Remus gave a watery laugh and blew his nose on his sleeve, ignoring Roman's noise of disgust - “stop being a little bitch and go get him.”

Roman just rolled his eyes and grinned at him. “You're the worst.”

Remus winked. “Love you too, bro.”

“Are the flowers necessary?”

“You're supposed to be the romantic side here. You're really going to show up for the hottest night of emotional coitus of your life-”

“-are you ever going to stop calling it that?-”

“-no. And you don't pull out all the stops?” Remus clicked his tongue and shook his head, fixing Roman's sash. “Shame.”

Roman grumbled, fluffing the yellow and red peace roses. “He better like them.”

“He will.” Remus turned him around and slapped his butt. “Go get him, bitch.”

Roman took a deep breath, smiled at Remus’s thumbs-up, walked up to Deceit’s door, and promptly turned around.

“Can’t do it.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Just knock, idiot.”

Roman shook his head, emphatic. “Nope, not gonna do it.”

“Roman, I swear I'll knock if you don't.”

“I will _ murder, you I swear.” _

“No, you won’t! You looooove me,” Remus cooed, prancing towards his brother.

“That’s besides the point!” Roman hissed, blocking the Duke’s lunges for the door.

“I’m going to knock,” Remus giggled, sing-song, trying to twist around Roman.

“No, you’re not!” Roman insisted, fencing him with the bouquet.

Remus relented, pouting. “Ugh, fine. I won’t - oh, hey, Deceit!”

Roman whirled around, only to come face-to-face with the closed door.

Remus ducked under his arm, knocked on the door, and sprinted away, hiding behind a convenient potted plant.

“I'm going to straight-up murder you,” Roman hissed at him.

That, of course, was when Deceit opened the door. 

“Roses _ and _ death threats? Roman, I must admit you're giving off mixed messages here.”

The snark fell from his lips easily, naturally, but he paused, mismatched eyes widening as he fully realized the sight before him - Roman, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, holding a bouquet of roses before him like a shield.

“Hey, pretty little liar.” Roman half-smiled, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

Deceit stood, paralyzed, for a moment. After Roman's face began to fall, however, he snapped back to life. 

“Your highness.” Deceit mock bowed, and Roman laughed, smile shifting to something genuine.

Remus cleared his throat, and Roman startled, thrusting the flowers at Deceit. “These, uh. These are for you.”

Deceit took them carefully; a hesitant smile licked at the corners of his mouth. His eyes shone. “They're lovely.”

Roman gave a half-shrug, shuffling his feet. “They suit you, then.”

A flush crept across the human side of Deceit's face.

Remus smiled to himself and sunk out. They'd be alright.

And he had the feeling that, after everything, they'd want a moment alone.

So it was much to his surprise that, a few hours later, he felt the tugging at the edge of his mind that meant some side was summoning him.

“What if we lost our ability to rise up right in the middle of the floor and our internal organs got mixed up with the wood- oh, hey, you two!”

“Hey, bro,” Roman said, his smile tilting closer to fond than exasperated.

“Green.” Deceit quirked an eyebrow. “It was _ so _ kind of you to let me think you were trying to set Roman up with Patton. Really, I can't tell you _ how _ much I appreciate it.”

“Awe, come on.” Remus pouted, rocking back and forth on his heels. “It seems like it worked out fine.” He wriggled his eyebrows at the light and the dark sides’ joined hands.

Deceit sniffed, sticking his nose in the air. “Irrelevant.”

Roman smiled at him, achingly fondly, and brought their joined hands up to kiss his knuckles. “Not to me.”

Half of Deceit's face flamed violently.

“So,” Remus drawled, cutting through the flustered snake noises, “not that I don't appreciate the nauseating display-” His eyes sparkled. “Oh, wouldn't it be terrible if one of you threw up while kissing?”

They both grimaced.

“Why did you call me though?” The Duke finished.

“One, to concede that _ perhaps _ your help wasn't the _ most _ useless thing in the world,” Deceit hedged, and Remus cooed, throwing his arms around his best friend.

“I knew you loved me, you slimy sycophant.”

Deceit hissed and disentangled himself, grumbling. “I barely tolerate you.”

“Liar,” the twins said, fondly, then smirked at each other.

“And two,” Roman hedged, rocking on his heels. “Well, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away!” Remus grinned. “I’m an open book!”

“Please stop opening your rib cage.”

“Do I _ have _ to? Ugh, fine.”

“Remus?” Roman looked at his brother, head tilted. “Can I ask _ why _ you were so insistent on getting us together? Why didn't you just… give up?”

“Why would I?” Remus smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You two are my favorite people in the world, and you like each other. I'd be a bad brother if I didn't do something about it.”

Roman looked stricken. “Remus, I…” He swallowed hard, then smiled and clasped his brother's shoulder. “Thanks, bro.”

Remus just smiled and put his hand over his brother’s, squeezed. “I'm just glad you two are happy.” He took a thoughtful bite of deodorant before a slow, sly grin spread over his face. “It'd be awful if he broke up with you.”

“Remus, I swear to God.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can y'all tell roceit is slowly becoming my OTP?
> 
> Listen, Remus is a disgusting, garbage man and I love him. I don't know how the creativitwins' relationship will develop in canon, but I personally chose to believe in Sibling Culture.
> 
> Speaking of, HUGE shout-out to my amazing sister for both beta'ing and writing some of the dialogue with me! I'd never have such a good grasp of Sibling Culture if it wasn't for you, my love <3
> 
> I'm working on a new chapter of Kill The Lights, but I reworked some of the sub-plots and switched a few things around in the outline, so it might be a while before I get everything sorted.
> 
> Roast me if you see a typo, cowards


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